


Going For Pinks

by SkittlesRPF (ThatWeirdSkittle)



Category: DNCE (Band), JONAS RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greasers, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-12-25 16:37:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18265229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatWeirdSkittle/pseuds/SkittlesRPF
Summary: Joseph Adam Jonas is nothing but Trouble, and he has his eye on the reader. Reluctantly, she might just like him back.





	1. Hey There

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely self-indulgent. There is a plot, but it's a little bit slice of life, a little bit teen drama, a whole lot of Joe in a leather jacket.
> 
> The reader is white in this. I normally wouldn't specify, but this is the 50s (I, myself, am not white, so it's a little weird for me, too.)

Joseph Adam Jonas was nothing but trouble.

His reputation was as well-known as the black 1953 Cadillac Eldorado convertible he drove. If you believed the rumors, he was a womanizer, a drag racer, a gang banger, and on at least one occasion: a thief. He ripped through the town at all hours of the day, skipping school and waking people up well past the weekday curfew. If he wasn’t a criminal, he was at least a nuisance.

You heard him before you saw him. His convertible screamed around a tight turn, blasting some rockabilly something or other for all to hear. You shifted further on the sidewalk instinctively, picking up speed. You did not need the inevitable headache that would come from tangling with the middle Jonas. You were already in a foul mood, having walked halfway home from school, only to have to turn around and go back for a single notebook.

Almost as if sensing your ire and wanting to add to it, he pulled up alongside the curb, leaning over the side of his car.

“Need a ride somewhere?” He called, reaching behind himself to turn down his radio.

A ride sounded lovely, actually, from literally any other person on the planet. A ride from Joe Jonas, however? You would never survive the rumor mill, much less the interrogation from your friends. You should have just walked away. You should have pretended like you didn’t notice him (how?) or didn’t know that he was addressing you. Instead, you spared him a glance.

He flashed you a devilish grin that made something squeeze in your chest. He was trouble. Dangerous. _Handsome._ Unfair. There was something exciting about his half-zipped leather jacket, perfectly coiffed hair, and the unlit cigarette he kept tucked behind his left ear. You couldn’t help but to smile back, suddenly conscious of the fact that you probably looked terrible after all of your walking.

You couldn’t accept the ride. You knew better than that. It would save you a lot of time, and you really did hate walking alone, but no. You couldn’t risk it.

“No, it’s a nice day for walking. Thank you for the offer.” You said, as sweetly as you could manage. You started walking again, trying to create some distance between the two of you. You expected to hear the sound of his engine as he followed you in his car. Instead, the sound of his engine cut entirely.

You turned, confused, in time to see him hop over his car door onto the sidewalk. He dusted off his jeans and approached you casually, as if this was totally normal. You were ready to assure him that you really did not need a ride, but he spoke first.

“I guess we’ll walk, then.” He said matter-of-factly. Heat rose to your face, and your eyebrows shot up.

“We?” It was all you managed as you searched for the proper words to protest. Walking you home was somehow worse than driving you. People might think—well they would certainly _talk_ —What if someone—the protests died before they even reached your tongue. None of those would work for Joe. He didn’t _care_ what people thought. That was his whole thing.

“You’re just going to abandon your car in the middle of town?” You tried instead.

Part of Joe’s reputation was that he only cared about two things: his brothers, and his car. If anything would convince him to back off, it would be his car. There was even a rumor that he dumped his last girlfriend because she scratched the paint on the passenger door. It was untrue, of course, but the fact that people believed it at all was a testament to how much he cared about it.

“No one will take it. If my car isn’t safe out here alone, you aren’t either.” Oh, he was good.

“There’s a no parking sign there, though.” You pointed to the sign in question and he shrugged. You really weren’t going to be able to shake him.

Reluctantly, you stopped trying. It wasn’t like the two of you were _doing_ anything, and you wouldn’t be getting into his car… You started walking again and he fell into step beside you. You felt painfully conspicuous as he walked by your side. Was there precedent for this? You wished that you had one of your friends with you. They were far more in tune with the rumor mill than you had ever been, and you needed to know if this was normal for him.

“Go around rescuing girls from boring walks often?” You asked, only half-jokingly.  You were doing your best not to look up at him, because looking up at him might mean catching him looking over at _you_ and the thought of that made your chest feel funny. He laughed, the sound deep and rich, and it had the same effect on you. Damn him.

“Only particularly pretty ones.” He shot back. That got you to look at him, narrowing your eyes to scan his face for any sign of sarcasm. Finding none, you looked away. What had you gotten yourself into? This was just a walk, you reminded yourself, and you had only agreed to it because he made it abundantly clear that he was escorting you home whether you liked it or not.

“So, what year are you?” Joe asked, taking your question as an opening for more conversation. The first replies you came up with were ‘ _Why does it matter?’_ And ‘ _do you even know my name’?_ but you settled for a real answer.

“I’m a Junior. We’ve had some electives together. You’re a senior, right?” For some reason, your question made him laugh.

“You do know who I am, then,” He addressed you by name, answering one of your unspoken questions, “And yet you agreed to let me walk you home.” Neither of those was a question, and yet you felt the need to answer, or defend yourself somehow. You hated how on edge he had you, how easily he was getting under your skin.

“Were you going to take no for an answer?”

“Nah.”

“There you go, then. Where were you coming from anyway, speeding like that? Or where were you going?” You asked, turning the heat from your decision making skills to his dangerous driving habits.

“I was coming to meet up with you.” He explained with a shrug, as if that somehow explained everything. As if the two of you had planned to meet up. As if this was _normal_. You pinned him with an unimpressed stare, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

“They had me in the cooler.” He admitted. “I saw you running through the hall while I was writing my lines. I tried to finish in time to offer you a ride home, but you disappeared by the time I finished. I just sorta drove around until I found you.” _Oh._ You weren’t sure how to feel about that. He had followed you, which was strange, but he had followed you to offer you a ride, which was sweet. Sweet in some nonsensical Joe Jonas way, that was. You would try to untangle that later, preferably with the help of someone who better understood boys.

“What’d you get detention for?” You asked, eyes wide with interest. You were sure there would be tons of rumors about what happened by the time you got to school tomorrow, it would be fun to know the truth. Joe hummed, like he was thinking.

“Let me give you a ride tomorrow, and I’ll tell you then.” He said. The same devilish grin from earlier returned and you remembered who, exactly, you were talking to. You bit your lip, considering. Walking with him hadn’t been half as unpleasant as you were expecting. He didn’t say anything weird, didn’t try anything… Still, riding in his car was different. You weren’t sure how, but you knew it was.

You were nearing your street now, and you hoped that your father was already home. If he drove by and saw you walking with Joe, you weren’t sure how you would explain it away.

“What do you get out of it?” You asked in lieu of a proper answer, buying yourself time. He pulled the cigarette out from behind his ear and twirled it in his fingers.

“What do you mean?” He asked, “Questioning my intentions?” His eyes glittered with amusement and something dangerous, but you didn’t back down.

“Yeah. I get a ride home and gossip right from the source. What do you get from this?” You asked, not bothering to hide your suspicion. You had existed around Joe for several years now, and he had never so much as looked your way. Now, out of nowhere, he was offering you rides. Anyone would be suspicious. Even if he weren’t Joe Jonas, it was bizarre. Since he was, however, it was even more suspect.

“A guy can’t want a pretty girl as company?” He deflected. The two of you turned onto your street and you saw, with relief that your dad’s car was already in the driveway. With that settled, you turned your attention back to Joe.

“There are plenty of pretty girls around, Joe. Plenty who would love to get a ride home from our resident bad boy, too.” You countered.

“Resident bad boy, huh?” He preened, and you immediately regretted your choice of words. “I like that.” You sighed and rolled your eyes, realizing that you were likely not going to get an answer to your question. Not unless… No. You couldn’t ride with him. You certainly shouldn’t, at least.

“You’re avoiding the question.” You stated plainly, and he shrugged. You were in front of your house now, and you stopped on the side walk, crossing your arms over your chest. You might have tapped your foot impatiently, too, if you thought that it would get you a better answer or a faster one.

“I’ll tell you what,” He said, stopping just in front of you, “If you let me give you a ride tomorrow, we’ll talk about that too. And any other questions you have.”

The two of you stared at each other, a moment stretching into an eternity as you considered. You had plenty of questions you could ask him. Your friends probably had plenty more to suggest, too. It was a good bargain, but it meant that you would go home without getting any information first. You sighed.

“I’ll answer you tomorrow.” You said, flashing Joe your own wicked grin. He blinked at you, surprised at the taste of his own medicine. When it sunk in what you had done, he laughed and shook his head.

“Fair enough.” He replied, “Tomorrow then.” He put the cigarette he had been playing with into his mouth and dug in his pocket for a lighter. While he did that, you turned to walk up the path to your house.

Before you could walk inside, he called your name and you paused, hand on the door.

“About what you said,” He explained, “There aren’t other pretty girls like you. Never think that.” He said, and he turned to walk away. You stood there, stunned for a moment. He had still gotten you, damn him. You watched his back as he left, wondering how someone could say something so cheesy and still come out so effortlessly cool.

He turned and caught you staring, winking at you as he lit his cigarette. Your cheeks flared and you hurried inside, locking the door behind you as if that would somehow change anything that had happened.

Everything you knew was correct. Joseph Adam Jonas was nothing but Trouble, and you had fallen right into his trap.


	2. Have You Heard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after Joe walks her home, the reader is forced to deal with rumors and worse: Her best friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be keeping a companion playlist with all chapter titles and songs mentioned within the chapters on spotify: https://open.spotify.com/user/12142365869/playlist/6uNN2Xsrop9YeR1AAeSmuQ?si=2shrtuwsQn-ULNb9kbK0HA

By the time you got to school the next day, the rumors were already flying. You were seen walking side by side with Joe Jonas, and everyone wanted to know what was going on between the two of you. Someone had spotted the two of you when he pulled up, and how could they not? With all the noise his car made, you could practically feel it when he turned onto a street. The walk, alone, was not what got the rumor mill going, however. What really set them off was the fact that Joe had abandoned his car in the middle of town just to walk you home. If the rumors were correct, he had even gotten a ticket for it.

You felt a little bad, but it was his own fault. You had asked him if he was sure about leaving his car there, and you had even directly pointed the sign out to him. He did that to himself. It wasn’t _your fault_ he was too stubborn to let you walk home by yourself.

Rumors had also already started about how he had landed himself in detention, but those were less interesting to you. If you wanted, you would be able to get the details on that straight from the source, but that was a big if. People were discussing it all around you as you walked through the line in the cafeteria. You couldn’t escape Joe, even when he wasn’t around.

“Spill.” Sarah commanded as soon as your tray touched the table. You expected it, but you still didn’t want to talk about this where anyone could overhear.

“Spill? What is there to spill?” You asked, feigning innocence as you took your seat. Sarah was having absolutely none of it. Her eyes narrowed and she frowned at you. Lucy fixed her with her own, less potent glare.

“Joe Jonas walked you home last night. He left his car in the middle of town! You cannot tell us that there’s not something going on.” Lucy said, each word a lance in your innocent façade. You looked back and forth between the two of them, trying to figure out which one of them you might be able to convince to go easy on you. Sarah’s ice blue gaze was firmly fixed on your face, and Lucy’s matching green one only wavered to glance over at Sarah. No dice. You sighed and leaned back in your chair, pushing your food around your plate.

“He just walked me home, guys, that’s it. I left a notebook at school and I had to come back for it halfway through my walk. Apparently he saw me from detention and decided that he wanted to offer me a ride. When I didn’t take it, he walked.” Lucy was grinning now, her eyebrows raised as she looked between you and Sarah, “He did say that if I let him drive me home today, he would tell me why he was in detention, but that’s the only thing worth discussing.” Sarah looked like she thoroughly disagreed with you, and you were sure you would have to hear about it, too. In truth, you wanted to talk about anything but Joe. He had already taken up enough of your thoughts, he shouldn’t get your lunch, too.

“You have to take the ride.” Lucy insisted suddenly, “We need that gossip, and you need that boy. He’s _cool_. He’s a senior, he has a car, he might be a total greaser but at least he’s not Justin.” There it was. You groaned aloud.

“Everything doesn’t have to be about Justin.” You protested. Every time a boy so much as looked your way, your friends suggested him as a way to get over your ex. “We’re broken up. He’s leaving me alone. I’m leaving him alone. It’s iced.”

Justin was a sore spot for your friends due to the way he had treated you. Sure, you weren’t the one to end the relationship, despite everything, but that didn’t mean that you hadn’t gotten over him.

“This isn’t about Justin, this is about _you._ And it’s about Joe, who is very cool and apparently very much interested in you.” Sarah wiggled her eyebrows and you threw a carrot slice at her. It bounced off her shoulder and onto the cafeteria floor, rolling underneath a nearby table. The three of you stared at it for a moment before exploding into a fit of giggles.

“You should really consider it.” Lucy insisted when she could breathe again. You didn’t admit that you _were_ considering it—that you had been considering it since he made the very first offer to give you a ride. You knew that you shouldn’t be. His reputation alone should be enough to keep you away. Letting him walk you home was a slip-up, and you had all but scheduled your next slip-up already.

“People are already talking.” You said, by way of protest. That much was true. Sarah and Lucy wouldn’t know anything if people weren’t already gossiping about you. Sure, it was mostly just a general curiosity at the moment, but that could change at any moment.

“And they should be! Joe’s been really picky since he and Laura broke up, and he picked _you_.” Sarah said. She leaned across the table to poke you hard in the chest, emphasizing the word ‘you.’ You rubbed the spot as she moved back into her seat, the pain distracting you from the blush rising to your cheeks.

“It was just a walk home, seriously.” You said. They both rolled their eyes at you, looking at each other as if you were hopeless. Maybe you were.

Several tables got quiet all at once, alerting you to some subtle change in the room. Your eyes raised and immediately fell on Joe, walking casually into the cafeteria. You felt like the air had been sucked from your lungs. He had on his signature leather jacket with dark jeans and a plain white t-shirt. His hair was carefully styled, likely with the switchblade comb he was flipping in his hand. He was a walking stereotype, and he was making it work for him, which was the most frustrating part.

His eyes scanned the room as he made his way to his normal table, only pausing when he spotted you. You. He was looking for you. The realization dawned on you with a not insignificant amount of horror. Was he going to come talk to you? Was he going to _sit_ with you? He couldn’t do that. Not here, not with everyone watching, and people _were_ watching. Much to your relief, and your very minor disappointment, he grinned, winked at you, and finished the stroll to his usual table in the back corner.

It was enough.

“ _It was just a walk home!”_ Lucy mocked you, pitching her voice so that it was high and shrill.

“ _Oh no, people are **talking!**_ ” Sarah joined in, faking a dramatic swoon. You gave them both the nastiest glare you could muster, but it had no effect. They continued their theatrics for several moments until, finally, Sarah got serious.

“You have to take that ride home.” She said, “You think he’s attractive, right?” She asked.

“Yeah.” You begrudgingly admitted, your eyes drifting to where he was sitting against your will. He was resting his elbow on his younger brother’s head, telling some story that involved dramatically pointing at the obviously annoyed younger boy.

“She can’t even keep her eyes off him.” Lucy supplied conspiratorially. Your eyes snapped back to your friends and you did your best not to look sheepish.

“He’s got a terrible reputation, guys. You’re the ones who told me he was a total womanizer.” You protested. Surely your friends wouldn’t set you up for heartbreak like this. Not after Justin.

“Rumors can be wrong, you know that.” Sarah said, “Give him a chance.”

If you didn’t know better, you would think that she just wanted you to give him a chance so that she could get on top of the gossip. It was a complex hierarchy, and she had slowly been rising in the ranks. You sighed. She was your friend before anything else, though, and you knew she wouldn’t set you up like that.

“Fine. I’ll accept the ride home.” You acquiesced, glancing over at him. You locked eyes with his younger brother, Nick, who grinned at you and elbowed Joe in the side. Joe looked over at his brother and then up at you, a small smile spreading across his face. As much as you hated to admit it, it was cute. You looked away first, finally taking the time to eat your lunch. With that settled, your friends settled into a more natural rhythm of conversation that only occasionally brushed the topic of Joe instead of revolving around him.


	3. I'll Be Seeing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reader tries to dodge her ride home with Joe, but ends up getting more than she bargained for when he catches up to her.

For the first time, you found yourself wishing that the school day would never end. You had let Sarah and Lucy convince you to accept Joe’s offer of a ride home, but that didn’t mean you were looking forward to it. You also weren’t explicitly _not_ looking forward to it, but you dreaded the implications. You were so worried that you couldn’t pay attention in class. Mrs. Olson was explaining something about _Romeo and Juliet_ and extra credit, but your mind was on other things entirely. You would ask Sarah later.

The bell rang all too soon, shrill and obnoxious. Backpacks zipped, conversations bloomed all around you, chairs scraped against the floor, and everyone began to file out into the hall. The school day was officially over, and that meant you had to face Joe: But only if he could find you. You had said you would accept it, but that didn’t mean you had to wait around for him. What if he got detention again?

With your logic scheduled, you started out on your walk home, taking a slightly more twisty path than usual. You plotted it out in your head as you left the campus, nearly giddy with your plan to avoid him. This way there would be no reputation to contend with, no weird feelings of attraction to tackle, and no more rumors. That was, of course, if he didn’t find you.

The first ten minutes of your walk were the most paranoid ten minutes of your life. You walked quickly, ears straining for even the most distant sound of his car. Had he seen you leave the school? Would he know you were trying to ditch him? Would he care? Somehow, that last concern hit harder than all of the others. You forced yourself to slow down to a normal pace. He probably wouldn’t care. When he didn’t find you in the courtyard, he’d probably do whatever it was that Joe Jonas did with his day.

You should have been relieved, but you felt… something else. Disappointed, maybe? Crestfallen, certainly. By the way he had been talking… Your self-pity was interrupted by the roar of an engine. He found you. Had he been looking for you, or was it just dumb luck? You stopped and turned to watch as he pulled up alongside you.

“Need a ride somewhere?” he called, pulling his sunglasses off his face and placing them in his hair. You chewed your bottom lip. You had promised that you would accept his offer. Still, if there was any chance of undoing the damage that you had already done, this was it. You knew that, and yet, you had _promised._

Joe’s smile turned nervous as the moment stretched out between the two of you and _oh no_ it was absolutely adorable. He had been looking for you, you realized. You couldn’t say no.

“I’d like that.” You said finally. The nervous smile melted away in a blink, but you held onto how sweet he had looked in that moment. _That_ was a Joe Jonas that didn’t match the rumors, and you wanted to know what that was all about. He jumped over the driver’s side door and walked you around the front of the car, standing close to the street as if to protect you from traffic. He opened the door for you, closing it when you were in the passenger seat. You had to admit, hopping over the door did make him look sorta cool.

“I didn’t know that Joe Jonas could be a gentleman.” You teased, “Imagine what would happen to your reputation if people found out.” His gaze was dark and heavy when he looked at you, making it harder to breathe.

“There’s plenty people don’t know about me.” He said. Before you could start to parse that statement, he added, “God time for a shake?”

You did. Oh my god, you did, especially if he was going to look at you like that, hazel eyes all wide and hopeful. You had time for _anything_ he was this earnest about. You said none of that. Instead, you leaned against the door and raised an eyebrow.

“I thought a shake was more of a second date deal.” You said. You were the one who said it, _date,_ but the word still made your heart beat harder. That’s what this was, wasn’t it? A date with Joe Jonas. What this would be, you corrected yourself, if you accepted. His eyes glittered dangerously, and you worried that you had somehow stepped in his snare.

“So that’s a yes? We had that lovely walk yesterday, Kitten. Counts for me if it counts for you.”

 _Kitten?_ If Joe kept making you forget how to breathe, you were surely going to die. He couldn’t just say things like that. It was unfair. You looked away, your face burning. That was it, then. A date. A _real_ date. A real second date, at that. You could feel the decision looming over you. Could you go through with this? Should you? Your conversation with Lucy and Sarah loomed over you. _You should go for it._

It did nothing to calm your nerves. Letting him drive you home for information was one thing, but a _date_. It all clicked into place in that moment. This had been his plan all along. _This_ was what he got out of it. When you turned to face him again, he was smiling like he could read your thoughts.

“Come on, it can’t hurt, can it? Besides, how else will I have time to answer your questions?” He all but purred. It could hurt. It could hurt a whole lot, but you didn’t want to get into that now. His second point, at least, was a good one. The walk to your house was long, but the drive took less than a quarter of the time. He’d barely have time to tell you about the detention, must less anything else. That was enough to make your decision.

“You win, Jonas. I have time for a shake.”

You could have sworn that you heard a quiet hiss of _yes_ under his breath, but it was drowned out by the sound of his engine as he accelerated. He rested his arm on the back of the seat, his hand resting just over your right shoulder. If he dropped it, he would have his arm wrapped around you.

The ice cream parlor was on the opposite side of town, past the high school. In the summer, everyone in town would swarm both it and the drugstore to try to stave off the heat with a shake or a cone. In the fall, both establishments served as date spots, though the drugstore was also more of a general hang.

You looked down at your hands in your lap, smoothing down the fabric of your baby blue skirt. You were on a date—a _second_ date—and you weren’t at all dressed for it. You should have asked to go home and change first or taken the time to put on some sort of makeup that morning. You did know that you were going to see him today, even if you hadn’t quite expected this. Something like panic gripped you and you forced yourself to calm down.

Joe had asked you out with you dressed like this, so he clearly didn’t have a problem with your outfit. By the time you had talked yourself out of it, Joe was parked and opening your door for you.

“Where do you go, Kitten?” he asked, holding out his hand for you to take. You couldn’t speak over the lump in your throat and so you just accepted his help climbing out of the car. He was really going to make that a thing. He was trying to kill you.

“What do you mean?” You finally managed.

“You get this look on your face sometimes, like you’re thinking a lot.” A lot, he had said. Not too much, like Justin would say, or too hard. You pushed the thought of your ex away. This was not about Justin. You shook your head as if to clear away the thoughts and laughed at yourself.

“Sorry, yeah. Sometimes I just get stuck in a thought and it starts to spiral. I’m here. I promise.” Joe smiled at you, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

What you expected was for him to say something like ‘as long as it’s me you’re thinking about, Kitten’ punctuated with a wink. Instead, you got, “Don’t apologize, it’s just something I noticed about you.” Followed immediately by, “Maybe you can fill me in one day.”

It was a one-two punch. _One day_. That meant spending more time together. That meant that Joe had intentions towards you. You raised your eyebrows, but didn’t comment, allowing him to lead you into the parlor. When you went to sit down at the counter, you realized that he had been holding your hand the entire time.

Mr. Norbert turned his 1000-watt small on the two of you turning his full attention to you as you sat down. This was a huge part of the reason that he maintained his business despite competition with the drug store. He knew everything and everyone, and they all loved him. That, and no one could quite crack his homemade ice cream recipe.

“Joseph! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around here. You haven’t been in trouble, have you?” The corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement as he leaned over the counter, extending a wrinkled hand. Joe laughed and finally dropped your hand to shake Mr. Norbert’s. You felt the loss more than you had expected to.

“I’m always in trouble if you ask the right people, Mr. Norbert.” Joe replied. The old man laughed and turned his attention to you.

“And yet you’re in bett—such good company! How are you doing, dear? I spoke to your mother after service and she told me you’ve been reading too much.” You flushed, glancing over at Joe who was watching the two of you with a soft smile. Mr. Norbert ducked beneath the counter and came back up with a small wax paper parcel.

“I also heard talk that a _certain someone_ , _”_ He winked at Joe, “Walked you home last night. I thought you might be in here soon.” You might have been embarrassed that even Mr. Norbert had heard about the walk home, if you weren’t greedily unwrapping the parcel.

“ _Memoirs of Hecate County?_ No way, isn’t this banned for obscenity? Thank you so much!” You looked up at Mr. Norbert, who just smiled knowingly. If he wasn’t across the counter, you would have hugged him.

“I’ll give you two a minute to look over the menu.” He said, walking away to take someone else’s order. You quickly shoved the book into your backpack, unable to suppress your grin.

“A banned book? Ooh, she’s a rebel.” Joe’s voice was closer than you remembered him being, and when you looked up, he was leaning over, practically occupying your personal space.

“Nothing like that, it’s just a book, Joe.” He laughed, the sound deep and rich in your ears.

“I don’t know,” He said as he leaned away, “I think it’s pretty hot.”

Mr. Norbert saved you from having to respond to that by walking up to you, notepad in hand.

“Now that they’re settled, what can I get started back here?” Joe turned to you, eyeing you up and down.

“You like Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups™?” He asked. You had to laugh, he had read you in an instant.

“You have no idea.”

“One chocolate shake, one peanut butter shake, and an order of fries.” He told him, “And anything else the lady wants.” You shook your head, not wanting to spoil your dinner. Mr. Norbert nodded and walked away to prepare your order. With him gone, you felt suddenly shy in Joe’s presence. The fact that he had technically called you hot made you giddy.

“So,” Joe started, propping his head up on his hand, “Was that your first time in a hottie?” He asked. You thought about it. Justin had done some alterations to his car, but you definitely wouldn’t call it a proper hot-rod. He didn’t even qualify for the lower ranks of races that happened around town. Joe’s car, though, that was the real McCoy. There were even rumors that he raced, and won, in it often. Of course, those were just rumors.

“A real one? I think so, I had a—” You hesitated”—a friend who worked on his car here and there, but it was nothing like yours.” Joe’s brow furrowed at your hesitation, but he didn’t push.

“You should let me take you out on the highway and show you what she can really do.” You could picture it: screaming down the high way far too fast, wind whipping around you. It would be electrifying, and, as all things seemed to be with Joe, dangerous.

“Maybe another day.” You deflected.

Joe hummed, but you got the feeling that his mind was somewhere else—maybe out there on the high way, whooping and laughing as the wind tousled your hair. You couldn’t blame him. You took advantage of his distraction to really look at him up close. He really was gorgeous. In another life, he might have been a Hollywood star. His eyes were light colored, but thick eyebrows and a constant smolder made his gaze dark and dreamy.

Dreamy? You pushed that word as far back as you could. He had five-o’clock shadow that both added to his bad boy look and marked him as a _senior_ who could grow proper facial hair. You had the urge to reach out and test how rough it felt, but you knew that was a terrible idea. You were already pointedly trying not to think about his lips.

“See something you like?” Joe asked. At some point during your reverie, he had broken out of his own and he was now eating a fry—you hadn’t noticed the food get delivered either—and watching you.”

You stammered for a second before swallowing your embarrassment. You were here on a _date_. You could handle this.

“And if I do?” You asked, leaning back so that you could check him out openly. He got a dark look in his eye that made your breath catch in your throat. Your eyes followed his tongue as he ran it across his top lip. You wanted to kiss him. You had been trying not to think about his lips, but when he was doing that…

“Find out.” He said, his voice low and husky. You swallowed thickly. There were other people in the ice cream parlor, but none close enough to hear you. His words were a threat. A promise. A teaser of things to come, if you kept associating with him.

“Maybe I will.” You challenged, adding internally _but not yet._ No one kissed before the third date. No one courting properly, that was. Or at least, no one admitted to it. Enough of your interaction with Joe was already prime gossip, you couldn’t risk people thinking you were easy.

“I like the sound of that.” He laughed, dissolving the tension instantly, “For now, allow me to demonstrate the proper way to enjoy chocolate and peanut butter milkshakes. I’m about to change your _life_.” Mr. Norbert had placed two straws in each of the shakes, and Joe now lined the shakes up side by side on the counter. Joe leaned over one side of the counter, gesturing for you to join him.

You leaned in close, mirror his actions as he grabbed a straw from either drink.

“You have to drink out of both straws at the same time. It doesn’t work the same if you get a half and half shake.” He explained. You nodded, leaning to get both of the straws into your mouth. You closed your eyes as you drank, unable to hold Joe’s gaze or think about how _close_ he was. When you opened your eyes, he was still watching, waiting for a reaction.

The shakes were perfect. Chocolate and peanut butter blended on your tongue, neither overpowering the other. You hummed with pleasure, leaning back to get some distance from Joe.

“That’s fantastic.” You admitted, grinning excitedly.

Joe returned the expression, “I’m glad you think so. I can’t finish two shakes on my own.” He joked.

The conversation fell to causal subjects. Joe told you all about his brothers: Kevin, his older brother, was in college. He visited often, as his girlfriend was still a senior in high school. Nick, his younger brother, was spread thin with too many extracurriculars and a too busy social life. Frankie, the youngest, was just a kid, but Joe was keeping an eye on him. You reciprocated by telling him all about your younger sister, Sylvie, who was probably the worst gossip in the whole town.

Everything started to feel easy. All of the rumors you had heard about Joe set him up to be a dangerous, broody gangbanger that wanted to get in your pants and leave you. That Joe couldn’t be trusted. That Joe didn’t smile softly when he spoke of his brothers. That Joe didn’t ask you questions about your sister and your life. This Joe was sweet, funny, maybe even kind… You were in deep.

“Someone made me a promise.” You said after some time, fixing Joe with a curious gaze. He winced, remembering the terms of this date.

“Oh yeah? What kind of idiot would do that?” He joked, trying to deflect. You didn’t let him.

“The same kind of idiot that gets detention for an hour and a half after school.” His shoulders sagged as he realized he wasn’t going to win this one.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess there are rumors out there anyway.” He said, waving his hand in the air as if that would somehow make the rumors go away. “Might as well tell someone the truth. What have you heard?” He asked. You considered. You had heard plenty of speculation, but you had been doing your best not to pay attention, since you knew that he was going to be telling you the truth at the end of the day.  You counted the rumors off on your fingers.

“That you kicked someone into your greaser gang in the bathroom, that you got into a fight over a girl, that you spit on Principal Farrow, and my personal favorite: You broke into the office to rescue your switchblade comb.”  You enumerated. Joe stared at you, slack-jawed for a moment.

“Where do they get this stuff from?” He asked incredulously. You shrugged.

“That’s just what I heard. People talk.” You told him. He shook his head, massaging his temples.

“I did get into a fight, sort of.” He said, “The important thing is that I tripped someone into a locker. That’s it. The guy had been bothering Nick for a week, just pushing him around and stuff. I finally caught him doing it. Recognized him from—Recognized him as a total gangbanger. When I went to talk to him, he tried to run. I just stuck my leg out and he flew into a locker. Broke his nose, too.” He winced at the memory.

“Oh,” you said, breathless at the thought of that kind of pain, “Just that.”  He shook his head.

“If I didn’t have witnesses, I probably would have been expelled. Nick’s friends argued it down to detention.” He said it so casually, punctuating it with, “If the locker hadn’t done the job, I might have. I don’t let anyone fuck with my brother.”

 _Oh._ That was a little more like the Joe you had been hearing rumors about. His face was dark and unreadable. Still, whoever it was, Joe had only tripped them, and he had done it to protect his brother. You found yourself mentally defending his actions to yourself. Alarm bells were ringing in your head, but the more time you spent with Joe, the further they sounded. Who was Joe Jonas, really?

You reflected on that as he drove you home. You had seen more sides of him than you thought existed already, and you had only spent a few hours with him.

Riding with Joe felt nice. He was effortlessly cool in his Eldorado, and that extended to you when you were next to him. His arm was over your shoulder, fingers idly stroking the collar of your blouse. You could get use to this.

When he pulled up in front of your house, he was quick to hop out of the car and open the door to let you out.

“Ever the gentleman.” You teased, taking his proffered hand. He laughed, pulling you hard enough that you stumbled into his arms. This close, the smell of leather and cinnamon after shave hit your nose. You didn’t think you liked either of those smells before you smelled them on him, but now, you savored it. Was he trying to kiss you? This was only the second date, and only technically that.

“Kitten, let me drive you to school.” He said, his voice low and tender.

You hummed, unsure. It would be nice to eat breakfast with your family again instead of rushing out as soon as you were dressed, but this was a big step. He cupped your chin in his hand and tilted your face up so that he could look you in the eyes.

“Please? That walk was awful, and I only did half of it. I’ll even promise to get you there on time.”

You bit your lip. People would talk. _People were already talking_. You hadn’t even decided if you trusted Joe, yet. He had showed you that he could be sweet and considerate, but he had also shown hints of the dark side that you knew he possessed. It was a horrible idea. And yet… You were looking at a beautiful man that wanted to make your day easier and spend more time with you. How could you say no to that?

“Fine.” You acquiesced. “But it’s just a ride. It’s not a date. And I’m not committing to anything other than tomorrow, got it?” He beamed, leaning in so quickly that you thought he might kiss you. Instead, he brushed his lips across your cheek.

“Thank you. I’ll see you in the morning, Kitten.” You were smiling like a fool as he gave you a quick hug and jumped back into his car. You stood in the driveway, watching him until his car was good and gone. Another slip-up, and he had only answered one of your questions. Trouble was beginning to look like an understatement.


	4. Cadillac Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe gives the reader a ride to school and proves her mother right.

You halfway expected to be late to school the next morning, whether it be because Joe forgot about you or forgot about his promise to get you there on time. So much so, that you called Sarah right after breakfast, when you would normally be walking out of the house and asked her if you could copy her notes if you didn’t make it in time. When you explained why, she screamed into the microphone and you had to slam down the receiver to preserve what hearing you had left. Your sister slipped into the hallway as you hung up the phone with a mischievous grin on her face.

“You’re getting a ride from _Joe Jonas?”_ She asked, lowering her voice so that your parents didn’t think anything of it. You sighed. You should have known that Sylvie would be eavesdropping on your conversation. She always was.

“Yes, Sylvia. I’m sure you already heard about the walk home. We went for shakes last night and he offered to pick me up.” You admitted, knowing that she would likely hear the rumors even at her own school. There was no hiding things from your sister.

“No way, you got to second date status? That hasn’t happened since…” She trailed off, considering, “…Since Laura. You’re _in there._ ”

“Sylvie, your father is packing his briefcase!” Your mother called from the kitchen. Your sister sighed.

“Alright, alright. I’m coming!” She called back. She turned to you quickly, “You had better keep me updated. I’ll be so mad if I have to find out more stuff from rumors.”

“Yeah, yeah, Sylvie. Go to school.” You waved her away. She was just as bad as Sarah and Lucy. Worse, since you lived together. She flashed you a quick grin and scampered off to catch your dad before he left her at home. She was in a special music program that didn’t exist at your high school. Rather than miss out, she rode with your dad to work in the next town over every day.

As they left the house, you returned to the kitchen to sit with your mother, who was just now finishing the dishes.

“Shouldn’t you be walking by now?” She asked, not turning away from the cabinets.

“I have a ride today. Hopefully he’s here on time.” That was enough to get her attention. She turned to you, eyebrows raised.

“He? Is this a _he_ we ought to meet?” She asked, suppressing a smile. You bit your tongue. Should you tell her? What did your mother know about Joe Jonas? How much of his reputation extended pass the high school? You had never heard your mom gossiping about things like that, but her friends might. Perhaps it was better if she didn’t know who just yet.

“It’s not like that, mom.” She gave you a skeptical look and you turned away, “Not yet, at least. Honest! He walked me home and we went for shakes, but we’re not jacketed or anything.” You explained. Her eyebrows did not go down, but she did stop staring at you. You breathed a small sigh of relief as she finished putting the dishes away and then came to join you at the table.

“I am not going to push, but if you want to go out with him on the weekend, we’ll have to meet him.” She said as she sat down with a cup of tea. You studied her, looking for some sign that she was upset with you. Finding none, you nodded.

“ _If_ ” you emphasized carefully, “He asks me out, I will bring him by so you and dad can meet him.”

“If?” Your mother smiled, “Surely you mean when.”

“I don’t know if he’s going to, mom, you know how guys can be.” You said, blushing. She gave you a look of disbelief, but she let it go. Before she could ask you any more questions, the telltale sound of Joe’s Eldorado sounded outside. You jumped up and grabbed your backpack.

“That will be my ride, gotta go. Love you, mom!” You called, the words running up against each other in your haste to get out the door. You wanted to be long gone before she could think to comment on the car you were getting into.

“Invite him for dinner when he asks you out!” Your mom called as you disappeared out the front door. Inside, she just shook her head, smiling softly as she recalled her first few dates with your father.

You winced as you heard your mother’s command just before you shut the door behind you. _If._ You insisted mentally, _if_ he asks you out. You had taken care to dress up just a tiny bit more than usual that morning. You grabbed a nice floral blouse with a blue skirt that was cinched at the waist. You had applied a slightly redder shade of lipstick than your natural pink, just enough to make them stand out. You were surprised your mom hadn’t commented on _that._ It was about as brave as you were willing to be for school, but it seemed to be enough.

Joe jokingly wolf-whistled at you as you walked out of the house. He was leaning against his car, arms crossed, one leg propped up as if he had been waiting for ages. You couldn’t see his eyes under his sunglasses, but you knew that he was watching you as you approached. He pulled open the passenger door for you with a flourish.

“Looking great, as always.” He complimented as you slid into what was quickly becoming your seat. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh yeah?” You asked, “All three days you’ve noticed me?” You watched him as he walked around the car and jumped into his seat. You wondered if he ever got tired of getting in that way. Surely it had lost its cool factor by now.

“Hey!” He protested, looking genuinely offended at the accusation, “Just because I never said anything to you does _not_ mean I never noticed you.” You considered that, studying his face. There was nothing in his expression to indicate he was lying, but you still couldn’t see his eyes. There was always the possibility that he was just telling you whatever he thought you wanted to hear. He did have that womanizing reputation to contend with.

“Hmm.” Was all you gave him. He frowned, but he didn’t argue with you.

He turned the radio on to the morning news instead of loud music and you let your eyes close as someone rattled off the weather and a few headlines. Blue skies for the next few days, with a cold front coming in after the weekend. There was a harvest festival next month with some contests attached to it. Police thought they were closing in on some illegal racing ring. You tuned it out.

Joe drove with his arm around your shoulder, gently rubbing circles into your arm with his thumb. He didn’t try to make conversation as he drove, letting you doze gently in the front seat. You could get used to this.

The drive to school was much shorter than the walk ever was. Too short, in your opinion, though part of that was based on the fact that you had a Biology exam later that day. Joe pulled into the parking lot but made no move to get out of his car. When you looked, there were a few people milling about in front of the school, and several others trickling in from the surrounding neighborhood, but it was painfully obvious that you had gotten there early.

“On time, just like I promised.” Joe said softly.

“Just like you promised.” You mumbled sleepily, a yawn slipping past your defenses. Joe Jonas, early to school.

“You really are going to ruin my reputation, Kitten.” Joe purred, close enough that you could feel his breath on the shell of your ear. Now that he no longer had to keep an eye on the road, he turned his full attention to you. You shivered, not quite awake enough to hide your reaction to his nickname for you. That only encouraged him. He shifted even closer to you, tracing your jawline with his thumb. “Early to school, a cute date to the ice cream parlor for shakes, taking a girl to the drive in… You’ve got me looking like some kind of softie.” You lifted your head to look up at him, furrowing your brow in confusion. The drive-in? Who was the girl? Was there someone else? Your stomach dropped, though you knew you shouldn’t care. You had known his reputation before any of this started.

“The drive-in?” You asked. Joe’s grin turned into something feral and you knew that you had stepped into another one of his snares.

“Yeah. Friday night? _On the Waterfront_ with Marlon Brando is showing.” He bit his bottom lip, “I’ll even get you home by your curfew.” You raised your eyebrows. The drive-in? A date to the drive-in?

“Joe, are you asking me on a date?” You asked. He let out a shocked, barking sort of laugh.

“I sure am. Will you go out with me Friday night?” He asked, still grinning.

You forgot how to speak. Your mother, of course, had been right. She had been proven right so quickly, too. How did she know, when you weren’t even sure?

More than that, though, your words were swallowed by anxiety. The drive-in was an issue for you. The last time that you were supposed to be taken on a date to the drive-in, Justin had driven right past it, up to the Ridge instead. That was the date that had broken the two of you up. Still, Joe was not Justin. You kept having to remind yourself of that. It wouldn’t be fair to him if you wrote off a whole date just because your ex had been a complete scumbag. You summoned a smile.

“You’ll have to come have dinner with my parents tonight, if that’s what you’re asking.” You said, watching his expression. His smile didn’t falter and you felt like air was returning to your lungs. Was he serious about this? Was he serious about _you?_

“So that’s a yes?” He asked hopefully. Oh god, he was agreeing to dinner. You couldn’t breathe again.

“If my parents say yes. I’m not sure if they… know about your reputation or not.” You tried to temper his expectations as much as possible. If your mom asked Sylvie anything, you sister would most likely tell her everything. You really had no idea how your parents would react to Joe, especially given his bad boy status.

“I’ll just have to make sure they love me.” He said confidently. With that look in his eyes, you believed he could do it, too.

You told Joe what time to show up for dinner and assured him that _yes, you were sure that you didn’t need a ride after school_. All you could think of as you walked to class was that Lucy and Sarah would _die_ when you told them about this after school.


	5. Your Cheating heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader encounters someone she does not want to see at the drugstore.

When you met up with Lucy and Sarah after the final bell, Lucy’s face with blazing red and Sarah was cackling so hard, you thought she might be on the verge of rupturing something.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Lucy hissed, fixing Sarah with a stern glare. It might have been menacing if it came from anyone else. The two girls stared at each other for a long moment before Sarah turned to smile at you. Oh, she dared.

“Lucy has a date to the Hop!” She blurted before the other girl could stop her, dodging out of the way of a playful slap that came flying the moment she opened her mouth. She started laughing again, throwing her head back and tossing her wavy blonde hair as she evaded Lucy. You turned to Lucy, glad that there was a topic of conversation other than _your_ love life, for once.

“I’ll tell you on the way to the soda fountain. I _really_ need that root beer float now.” She said, rolling her eyes at Sarah’s betrayal. She didn’t wait for an answer, turning on the sidewalk without another word. You and Sarah jogged to catch up, falling in step on either side of Lucy, as she was the topic of discussion.

“So, you know Michael?” Lucy asked, glancing at you nervously out of the corner of her eye once you caught up.

“Hines? Football Michael?” You asked, your eyebrows shooting up. Lucy nodded, looking off into the distance now. Your jaw dropped.

“You got asked out by the _quarterback_?” You asked, grabbing her arm excitedly, “Lucy, this is unreal! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me immediately!” She chewed her bottom lip and nodded her confirmation.

“You’re not mad at me?” She asked. Your eyebrows went up again. Mad? You would never be mad about your friend getting asked out. Oh… You were so exited for her that you had managed to forget. Michael was a football player, which meant that he would be around the other football players at the Hop. Justin was also a football player, which meant that your ex would be around Michael. Which meant that Justin would be around Lucy.  Your excitement cooled a bit, but you pushed those thoughts away.

“What did y’all say the other day? This isn’t about Justin. This is about you, and _Michael._ ” You said, leaning in close to watch her embarrassed smile. “Oh, she’s still blushing! This one is bad, Sarah. Ugh, you have to tell me everything. I’m so upset that he got to you when I wasn’t around.”

“It was _so_ sweet. I’ve never heard him stumble over his words like that before.” Sarah cut in, earning another pointed glare from Lucy.

“Alright, let me tell it. So, Sarah and I were leaving class, coming to meet you, and we see Joe, right? I wanted to ask him if he’d seen you around, but his brother and a girl his year walked up to him right as someone started calling my name.”

“Don’t worry, “ Sarah cut in again, “The girl was _definitely_ there for the brother, not for Joe.” Lucy nodded her agreement as if that was somehow the most important part of the story. You and Joe weren’t steady or anything anyway, it wasn’t like you could be mad if the girl was there for him. The insecurity you had felt when he had first mentioned the drive-in flared in your chest again and you shoved it down forcefully. Joe may have a reputation, but he had already proven that he was more than that.

“Okay, so you heard someone calling your name. Then what?” You asked, pushing to get back on topic so that you could stop thinking about Joe and whether or not he was dating other girls. Lucy smiled again as she remembered what she had been talking about.

“Oh! Yeah, so I turn around to see who’s calling my name and Sarah is, like, pinching my arm because it’s _Michal freaking Hines._ He’s trying to push his way through the crowd, but people are trying to talk to him and walk with him and get him to go somewhere. Some of the football guys started to kind of lead him away so he just barrels through them all and runs down the hall to me and Sarah.”

“I genuinely thought Lucy was going to pass out.” Sarah interrupted, “He just came sprinting in and stopped right in front of her, kinda standing over us. I had to back away.”

“She ran.” Lucy disagreed, “Very obviously. Michael is just _standing there_ all tall and muscular and he starts turning red and sorta stuttering all nervous, you know? Finally he just says ‘so, uh, so there’s a Hop soon’ and now I’m staring at him like he’s crazy, because I really thought he came to make sure I knew the hop existed.”

You dropped your head into the palm of your hand. “Oh, Lucy…” She was so smart when it came to anything but her own personal relationships.

“I know, I know! So I was just like, ‘Yeah, I’m looking forward to it!’ and this awkward silence fell for a full thirty seconds before he finally took a deep breath and just, ‘willyoubemydateit’sokayifyousayno’ all at once. I had to get him to repeat it twice before I finally understood what he was saying.”

“It was so cute! He was just as red as her. Maybe redder!” Sarah said, reaching around to pinch Lucy’s cheek. Lucy grimaced and pulled away, smacking Sarah’s hand.

“ _Anyway_ , I said yes. Now I need to find a dress.”

“Do you think your dad can drive us to town this weekend?” Sarah asked Lucy as she opened the door to the drugstore.

The inside of Brent’s was a flurry of activity. You three weren’t the first to get there after school, nor would you be the last. It took a moment to find an empty booth, which you claimed quickly, Sarah and Lucy sliding into the two seats across from you. Lucy’s face had finally settled into a flushed pink instead of the vibrant red she was outside.

“I’m not sure.” She finally replied, frowning, “About my dad driving. He’s got some big client coming in.” Sarah pouted at Lucy’s answer. Lucy’s dad was usually the only one that both had time and was willing to drive you on the weekends. Since none of you knew how to drive yet, him being busy normally meant that you were stranded. Unless…

“I could…” You hesitated, not even wanting to voice the thought, “Maybe I could ask Joe. He’s coming to my house tonight, and—” You trailed off as you realized that your friends were staring holes into your face.

“He’s coming to your _house?!”_

“Yeah. He asked me on a date Friday, and mom said—”

“ _He asked you on a date Friday?”_

“When were you going to tell us?” They both spoke so quickly you almost weren’t sure which girl shouted what.

“Calm down, it wasn’t Joe time yet. It was Michael time.” You said, throwing your hands up defensively.

A waitress walked up to you then, saving you from the brewing lecture. You ordered a seltzer water with lime, while Lucy and Sarah ordered their fries and floats. When the waitress walked away, you quickly filled them in on everything that had happened since your last lunch together.

“Oh my god, he took you to the ice cream parlor and shared shakes with you? That’s so cute, I can’t stand it.” Lucy said dramatically.

“Did you miss that he _drove her to school?_ You made Joe Jonas on time to school! Joe. Jonas.” Sarah squealed. You smiled softly, thinking about the way his fingers had ghosted over your jawline earlier.

“So, the drive-in is going to be your third date then?” Sarah asked, counting on her fingers. “A long walk, shakes, and a movie. Is someone going out for some backseat bingo?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you wished you had something you could throw at her.

“Come on, Sarah, it’s just now the third date. I don’t even know if my parents will say yes.” You protested, “And we haven’t even had our first kiss yet.” The thought wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but you weren’t sure you were ready for all of that. You already had to get over some hard associations to agree to the date in the first place. Jumping into _that_ when _that_ was so close to what had ruined your last relationship… When you shook the thought off, Lucy was giving you a sympathetic smile. Joe was not Justin. She reached across the table and gently squeezed your fingers.

“I’m sure he won’t do anything you don’t want to do.  You _do_ want to kiss him though, don’t you?” She asked conspiratorially. Your face reddened and she and Lucy burst into laughter, barely managing to thank the waitress as she delivered your orders. You just rolled your eyes at them and too, a sip of your drink, making it clear that you had no intention of answering their questions. As if they needed you to confirm what they already knew.

As Sarah and Lucy continued ribbing you, you became aware of someone’s eyes on you. You thought you were just imagining things, at first, but when you looked up discretely you saw a tall brunette staring directly at you. Her heavily lined eyes were narrowed in anger.

“Oh no, is she watching you?” Sarah whispered, her eyes darting to the counter. “That’s _Laura._ ” She hissed. Your heart rate picked up and you had to fight to keep your cool.

If Joe Jonas was Trouble, Laura Haverson was Bad News.

Joe’s reputation was all races and fist fights, but Laura’s was manipulation and utter brutality. You had heard stories of her for tearing people down for so much as looking her the wrong way, and you were dating her ex. Maybe if you didn’t make eye contact… No. She had seen you glance over, and Bad News was headed right your way.

Your friends bristled, but you shook your head, turning to face her yourself. This close, you could see what Joe had seen in her. She was half leg and all leather with a pretty face. A niggling doubt in the back of your head asked why he would go from _all of that_ to you, but you forced that thought down. If you were going to survive this, you needed to be confident.

“I hear you’ve stepped out of line.” Laura said, crossing her arms. Her two friends sneered from their perch at the counter, making their presence known. The drugstore was utterly silent as everyone watched the altercation.

“Is that right?” You asked boredly. You wondered if she could tell that you were really absolutely terrified.

“Look, you can run around with Joe all you want, but when I want him back, he’ll come running. Why not just give up now?” You should back down. She could ruin your social life. She could ruin your sister’s social life. She could hurt you. She could—no.

“If you were so sure of that, you wouldn’t have to ask.” You replied,” Besides, we have a lovely trip to The Ridge planned for Friday night and I’d _hate_ to miss it. Third date, and all. You know how it goes.”

Laura clenched her fists and grit her teeth. Oh, you were in for it now.

“Joe would never.” She growled, “Not with _you_.”

You saw it on her face then, and you smiled.

“Aww, he never took you, did he? That’s just too bad. I’ll make sure to let you know what it’s like.” You weren’t sure what was egging you on. Maybe it was the fact that she was acting like she _owned_ Joe. Or maybe it was the fact that she looked at you like you were an insect. Maybe it was just that your best friends were there, and Lucy looked like she wanted to hit someone or cry. Whatever was fueling it, you held your ground.

“I will destroy you.”

“I would love to see you try.”

Laura turned and stormed out of the drugstore murderously, leaving her cronies alone at the counter. They sat there for a few moments, looking at each other and at their unfinished food. Eventually, they decided that their well being was more important than wasted money, and they left to join Laura outside.

You hadn’t realized how claustrophobic you were starting to feel until Laura and her friends were gone. As soon as the door shut behind them, oxygen filled your lungs and you sagged in your seat, savoring the feeling of cool leather against your burning skin.

“I didn’t know you had that in you.” Sarah remarked. You could hear the proud smile in her voice, but you didn’t look up to see it.

“I didn’t either.” You admitted.

“The Ridge, huh?” Lucy teased, “You didn’t tell us anything about that plan.”

“That’s because that’s not a part of the plan.” You admitted quietly, “I didn’t even know what I was saying, I just couldn’t let her win. God, I hope that doesn’t get back to Joe before dinner tonight.”

Sarah said your name seriously and you finally looked up at her, alarmed.

“You don’t know?” You shook your head. What didn’t you know? “Oh my god your serious! Laura cheated on Joe at the Ridge. It’s why they broke up. She got caught because his older brother was interning with a cop who went to clear the place out.” Sarah told you.

“She kept asking Joe to take her, but he always said he only went up there to race. No one knows why.” Lucy added. You listened, mouth agape. You didn’t know that she had cheated on Joe. How could she? You knew that she was slimy, but that was lower than low, especially when she still seemed to think he was hers. Sarah and Lucy laughed at the expression on your face.

“Our girl’s a stone-cold bitch and doesn’t even know it. I’m so proud!” Sarah cooed.

“She couldn’t have shut Laura down harder if she’d tried.” Sarah agreed, pretending to dab at her eyes. You shook your head and took a sip of your seltzer, worried about what sort of feud you had just gotten yourself into, and how tonight’s dinner would go.


	6. Little Things Mean A Lot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe charms the reader's parents.

The kitchen was quiet save for the scrape of you peeling potatoes and the steady _thunkthunkthunkthunkthunk_ of your mother chopping them into cubes. It was tedious work, but it allowed you some distance from your concerns about Laura. You weren’t sure what the girl would do to you now that you were on her radar. More importantly, you weren’t sure how Joe would feel about the lie that you had told, considering the circumstances of their break up.

While actively helping prepare dinner, however, your mind turned to other things. Namely, how the hell you were going to survive this dinner in the first place. Laura would be a non-issue if your parents disapproved. You had everything against you. Joe had a terrible reputation, he drove the loudest car in town, you had met on a day he was in detention… This would be a hard sell.

When you had told your mother that he was coming for dinner, she had just smiled knowingly. She had been right, after all. She didn’t say _I told you so_ , but it was written all over her face.

“So,” She began, still chopping the potatoes you had peeled, “Who is this boy?”

“His name is Joe Jonas.” You started, watching her face for any reaction. She only gave you an eyebrow raise, which could go in either direction.

“Joseph, Denise’s second son?” Your mother asked, looking up at you. You nodded. “Denise is lovely, she does the petit fours for our sewing club.” That was a point in your favor. If the first association was his parents and not everything else about him, you would call that a win. You finished the potatoes and rinsed the starch off the peeler in the sink.

“The pie, dear.” Your mother instructed and you nodded, gathering the pie ingredients from where they had been placed in the refrigerator.

“Tell us about his _car._ ” Your father called from the living room, where he was tinkering with some miniature engine. Your mother made eye contact with you and rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Let the girl be, dear. I’m sure young Joseph will be more than happy to tell you everything you want to know.” Your mother chided him. Another positive. If he could keep your father distracted with the mechanical aspects of his car, maybe your parents wouldn’t question why a high schooler would need a car like that.

It was clear that your mother had more questions, but she held her tongue. As the two of you finished dinner, she told you about some of the adult gossip. One of the ladies in the sewing club had been stealing pincushions and they finally narrowed it down to two suspects. There were rumors of one of your teachers having an affair. She had been asked to temporarily cover a gardening column in the local paper while the normal writer was out of state handling some dubious business.

It was nice to feel like you were old enough for her to discuss these things with you, and you let it take your mind off of the impending dinner. It was so successful that by the time Sylvie was coming downstairs to set the table and the front doorbell was ringing, you had nearly forgotten your anxiety. Nearly.

“Don’t touch the door, Sylvie.” Your mother commanded as your sister turned to sprint for the door. Sylvie visibly deflated, going back to placing silverware on the table. Your father joined you in the kitchen as your mother got the door. Bits and pieces of the conversation reached the kitchen as you finished setting the food in the middle of the table.

“Joseph—your mother? What’s this? –too kind.”

“—ma’am. –pleasure’s mine. Thank you.”

“—come on in.”

Your mother walked into the kitchen holding a bouquet of lilies and dahlias, followed shortly by Joe. You quickly removed your apron and hung it on a hook, turning to greet him as your mother searched for a suitable vase.

“Joe, I’m glad you made it!” You said, giving him a side-hug. “You’ve met my mother already. This is my father, and that’s my sister, Sylvie.”

You watched Joe as he shook your father’s hand. He looked nothing like the boy that had been pursuing you for the past week. His normally greased up hair was free of product. Instead of a pompadour, soft curls fell in his face, emphasizing his hazel eyes. He wore a nice button-up and jeans. Not too dressed up, not too casual. Gone was his usual leather jacket, likely abandoned in his car for the sake of appearances. It was like looking at a different, yet similarly attractive person.

The five of you sat down to dinner. There was a light tension in the room, as if everyone was waiting for someone else to do something.

“Joseph, would you like to say grace?” Your mother offered. You bit your tongue. Your father always said grace. Your eyes flashed to his face, but he was watching Joe. They had planned this, you realized, it was a test. When you looked to Joe, he betrayed no signs of nervousness.

“Of course, thank you.” He clasped his hands and bowed his head, your family following suit.

“Dear heavenly father, I would like to thank you for this amazing food and even more amazing company. As we partake in this dinner, please bless us with love, laughter, and good health. Amen.”

You couldn’t help it, you peeked during the prayer. Joe looked so serene and cherubic with his hair down that you almost would have believed that he was a church boy instead of a greaser. Almost.

“Amen.” You stumbled to say it at the same time as your family, feeling somewhat guilty for peeking. When you looked to your father, he appeared to be vaguely approving. The next few moments were occupied by the filling of plates and the passing of dishes. With Joe to your left and Sylvie to your right, you had no choice but to watch your parents’ faces.

“Joseph, how did you meet our daughter?” Your mother asked. Your stomach dropped. And so it began.

“We’ve had classes together before. Electives, at least, I’m the year above. I saw her leaving school late and tried to give her a ride home, since it was getting dark.”

“Tried?” Your father asked. He was looking at you, not at Joe, an amused glint in his eye. Joe laughed.

“She was having none of it, so I walked her home instead.” Joe explained. It was what happened, just somewhat sanitized. Oh, he was good. You relaxed somewhat as Joe expertly charmed your parents. He fielded your father’s questions about his car, agreeing to take a look at the miniature engine that was your father’s current pet project. Sylvie asked a few prying questions, but you silenced her with a swift kick under the table.

Despite your anxiety, it just felt… Normal.

“—So then, Nick jumps into the pool _fully clothed_ , screaming something about a bee—” You wanted to listen to Joe, you really did, but watching how his eyes lit up when he was telling stories just made your chest hurt. Sylvie nudged you subtly and gave you a thumbs up when you made eye contact. She was sure your parents approved. When you looked at them, both rapt at Joe’s tale, you believed her too.

When the food was done and the dishes cleared away, Sylvie excused herself to make a phone call, most likely to whatever boy she was interested in that week. You pulled the pie you had baked out of the oven and your mother offered coffee and tea to the room.

It didn’t happen until the 4 of you were sitting at the table with your hot beverages, the sound of Sylvie’s conversation drifting in from the hall.

“Sir, ma’am. There is a matter I’d like to discuss with you.” Joe said seriously. That got your parent’s attention. They both knew why he was there, but all three of you had expected them to broach the subject, not Joe. He shifted in his seat, nervous under the sudden scrutiny.

“I would like to take your daughter out to the drive-in Friday night. Might I have your blessing to do so?” He asked, his voice amazingly steady for how nervous he looked. Beneath the table, he had pressed his knee against your chair, seeking some small amount of contact to anchor him. You reached over and squeezed his knee, trying to hide your own nervousness.

Your parents looked at each other and then turned to the two of you.

“The answer was always yes.” Your mother said with a grin.

“Get her back safely before the sun rises.” Your father added. He tried to look stern, but he couldn’t help but to smile at the two of you, “And don’t drive highway speeds in the neighborhoods.”

Joe couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across his face, and neither could you. The date may have already been approved, but the curfew shift was solely because your parents liked him. You almost couldn’t believe it.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” He finally managed. Your mother stood to do the dishes and Joe shook your father’s hand before offering his help. Your mother shooed him away, telling him that he could help by distracting your father with the engine.

You felt like you were floating for the rest of the evening. They had said yes. _They had said yes._ You had come in expecting a hard sell, some sort of disagreement, and they had just…. Said yes. You couldn’t believe it.

It was the flowers, you decided. He had come in with a bouquet of your mother’s two favorite kinds of flowers—most likely picked out by Denise—there was no way they could say no to that. You hovered between the kitchen and the living room as your mother did the dishes, watching as Joe and your father discussed whatever was wrong with the engine.

“He looks at you like you’re made of gold.” Your mother commented, turning to look back at you. You raised an eyebrow, watching to make sure that Joe had not heard her.

“We’re not serious yet, mom, this is just a third date.” You protested. You had been in contact with Joe for all of one week. You didn’t look at someone like that after a week.

“For now.” Your mother said with that same knowing smile, “I’ve seen that look before, though.” When you looked back at Joe, his eyes were on you. When you met his gaze, he grinned, and you wondered where all of the oxygen in the room had gone. For a few, brief moments, the rest of the world disappeared. It was just you and him, smiling. You watched each other for a few moments before your father said something to Joe, breaking the spell.

“That look.” Your mother said. You hadn’t heard her walk up to you, but she slung an arm over your shoulder now. You closed your eyes, hoping to preserve that moment in your mind.

Later, you would have to talk to Joe about Laura. Later, you would have to wonder where the two of you were going with this. For now, you just held onto that glance, letting it warm you as you watched Joe interact with your family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is the third date, which means it is finally socially acceptable to kiss.


	7. I've Got You Under My Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe takes the reader on a date to the drive-in. Will they finally have their third date first kiss?

By the time Joe had left your house the night before, you had all but forgotten about your altercation with Laura in the drugstore. By the time you remembered, you had bigger things to worry about. Namely: getting ready for your _third date._ A kiss would be fair game after this. Would he go for it during the date? After? Would he make you wait?

You mulled it over as your sorted through your closet for something to wear. You wanted to look cute, but not like you were trying to hard. It was a difficult balance. You eventually settled on a short sleeved white turtleneck with a high waisted black circle skirt that fell just below your knees. It was simple, it was chic, and more importantly, it was cute. There would be absolutely no point in wearing heels to sit in a car all night, but you couldn’t resist the yellow suede pumps your mother had bought you for your last birthday, matching them with a yellow ribbon in your hair.

“Need help?” Sylvie asked, walking through the door to your room, makeup bag in hand. She didn’t wait for your answer before she started unloading products onto your vanity.  She was chattering away about how when _she_ turned seventeen, she better not have a curfew either. And she hoped you knew that you were _required_ to report back to her with all the details of the date. You rolled your eyes. She sounded exactly like Sarah and Lucy.

At your request, she only gave you a light coating of mascara, a cat eye liner, and a red lip. You sat as still as possible, listening as she told you about the new guy at school.

“He’s from overseas, isn’t that so romantic! He has an accent and everything, honest!”

When she was finished, you slipped into your shoes and stood in front of the full-length mirror to get the full effect. You felt just like Audrey Hepburn in _Roman Holiday._

“Sylvie, you’re a miracle worker.” You praised your sister, throwing your arms around her in a grateful hug.

“Enough that you’ll let me borrow your white skirt tomorrow?” She countered. When you stepped back to frown at her, she was grinning.

“Come on, _please?_ He’s going to be at the park, and you know how good that skirt looks on me. He’s—”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s from overseas, I get it. I’m starting to think you don’t know anything else about this boy.” You grumbled, opening a drawer to pull out the skirt. Sylvie grabbed it from you, cradling it against her chest as if afraid you would change your mind.

Still holding your skirt, she shoved some makeup in a small handbag, barking out instructions on how and when to refresh your lipstick. Since your parents were gone on their own date night, she even started to give you a speech warning you about the dangers of boys until you reminded her that she was, in fact, your _younger_ sister.

The doorbell rang and you froze, eyes wide. It was time. Your heart pounded in your chest as Sylvie pushed you through your bedroom door. This was technically date three, but suddenly it felt like the first real date.

“ _Go_ , don’t make him wait.” She whispered harshly, abandoning you once she got you to the top of the stairs. You breathed in slowly and took the stairs one at a time, balancing carefully on your heels. You could do this. This was Joe. This was just another date. _Oh my god, it was your third date with Joe Jonas._ You might have fainted if you didn’t catch sight of him through the window, waiting nervously on the doorstep. He shifted from foot to foot, staring at the doorknob like he could turn it with his mind.

That was enough to get you the rest of the way to the door. When you swung it open, Joe’s eyes snapped to yours, his gaze pinning you to where you were standing. He only looked away once to look you up and down and then his eyes were on yours again. Warmth bloomed in your chest and you had to bite your cheek to keep yourself from squirming under his gaze. If he could make you feel this way with just a look…

“You look…. Stunning.” He said breathlessly, “Gorgeous. Devastating. I don’t have a strong enough word.” This time, you really did think you were going to pass out. Did women still swoon? Was this how swooning felt? He held a hand out to you and you took it, letting him lead you through the door. You locked the door, and then you were all his.

For his part, Joe wore a well-fitting pair of dark jeans and a proper button up shirt. You knew that the leather jacket would be waiting in the car, and you honestly preferred him in it. Again, he had no pomade in his hair, soft curls falling on his forehead in a way that made you want to run your fingers through them. He was too good.

“You clean up nicely yourself, Jonas.” You managed to say, despite your impossibly dry mouth. He held your hand all the way to the car, not letting go until he had to close the door behind you.

There was something in the back seat covered in a blanket, but he told you not to peak until you got to the drive-in. You waved to Sylvie as he drove off, laughing as a flash of light signaled her darting out of her window, where she thought she had been unseen.

Joe snuck glances at you as he drove, his lips turned up in a shy sort of smile. You wanted to know what was going on in his head, but something prevented you from asking. Nervousness bubbled in your stomach. This felt real and official and important in a way that walking home hadn’t—in a way that spontaneous shakes hadn’t. Everything was moving so quickly and you were beginning to realize that you didn’t mind that at all.

_Shake, Rattle, and Roll_ played on the radio, filling the tense silence that stretched between the two of you. Was Joe as nervous as you were? He was gripping the steering wheel with both hands, which was rare enough, but his knuckles were white from how much pressure he was applying. You would love to get inside his head.

_“Wearing those dresses // Your hair done up so nice//Wearing those dresses//Your hair done up so nice”_ He sang along under his breath absentmindedly, “You look so warm.” His eyes flashed to you again and he smiled, skipping the _heart’s as cold as ice_ line with a wink. You blushed and joined along on his singing, the words interrupted by intermittent laughter.

By the time the song ended, Joe was pulling into the drive-in and both of you had loosened up considerably. Big Joe Turner was the way to start a date off right, you decided, especially when it was a date with your own Joe.

Joe paid, parked, and tuned his car to the proper radio station as you waited. You took the moment to scan the area. The drive-in was always packed on Friday night, doubly so tonight thanks to the fact that _On the Waterfront_ was a new release.

“Brave of you to bring a girl on a date to see Marlon Brando.” You teased, reaching out to brush one of his curls out of his face.

“Oh, that’s what you like?” He asked, turning a heavy gaze onto you, “I’ll make sure to take notes. Dockworker. Criminal. Sunglasses.” His smile grew as he went down the list and you shoved his arm, laughing.

“Never underestimate the power of nice sunglasses.” You said sagely. He gave you a look that was difficult to parse. It was a sort of head quirked, open mouthed smile, like he was endlessly enchanted by something. It was a brief thing, but it made you feel warm all over again.

“We should move to the back for the movie—aww, don’t look at me like that, I’m not putting the moves on. There’s more room back there.” He defended against your accusatory glare. You glanced at the back seat. There _was_ more room, especially if you sat on top of the seats. You acquiesced.

Joe climbed over the seats, shifting the blanket covered bundle and sitting up on top of the trunk. After clearing space, he held a hand out to you and helped you climb between the front seats, half catching you as you moved from standing to sitting next to him, your feet resting against the smooth leather upholstery.

“Should I take these off? I don’t want to damage the seats.” You said, holding out one leg to present your yellow high-heeled shoe. His eyes traced from the heel up your leg to where your dress had bunched up just above the knee.

“ _No._ ” His voice was raspy and you watched as he licked his lips, tearing his eyes away from the small bit of visible thigh to match your gaze. “No, it’s fine. They can handle it.” You stored that reaction in your mind for later examination, pleased that you could have some effect on him. It was only fair, after the way he made you squirm.

Finally, he reached down to grab the blanket. He spread it across the trunk behind the two of you and pulled out the things he had been hiding under it: a picnic basket, two mugs, and a small box that he shoved under his jacket. You held you tongue about the latter.

“You packed a picnic?”

He blushed and pointedly did not look at you as he unpacked it.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to go to the diner with the whole crowd after, so I thought I’d bring some food just in case. Kevin helped.” He admitted, “this is _his_ basket.” The image of the two Jonas boys carefully constructing cucumber sand which and chopping various fruits was absolutely endearing.

“Joe, this is the cutest thing anyone has ever done for me.” You said, reaching out to place your hand over his. He fixed you with another gaze you could not parse, this one distant.

“You deserve it.” He said simply.

It was your turn not to look at him, feeling like the air had been punched out of you as you helped him finish unpacking.

You were vaguely aware of the fact that every single person who cared to look could see you and Joe together. Maybe a week ago, that would have made you nervous, but tonight it did not matter at all. Except… You frowned as you recalled the encounter in the drugstore. You had meant to talk to Joe about all of that before the date, but you had forgotten in your excitement. _Later._ You promised yourself. _You’d tell him later._

“Hey.” Joe said softly, reaching out to run his thumb over your bottom lip, “What’s wrong?” You shook your head.

“Sorry, I’m just thinking. You know how I am.” You said, waving a dismissive hand. He eyed you suspiciously but didn’t push it. You thanked him silently, knowing that you would have to tell him tonight now that he had your scent.

The movie started and Joe leaned across the car to turn the radio up. All around you, radios warbled to life, some built in, some handheld, to play the movie audio. When Joe came back, he sat down closer than he had been before, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Is this okay?” He asked, his hand hovering just above the high waistband of your skirt. He was so nervous.

“Of course.” You murmured. He rested his hand just beneath your lowest ribs and you felt him take a shuddering breath. You bit your tongue. Why was _he_ nervous?

The two of you were mostly quiet during the first half of the movie, with Joe nudging you every time Marlon Brando showed up on screen. You sampled the snacks, trying to guess what Joe had put together, what Kevin had done, and what Denise had stepped in for.

“No really, those are all me.” Joe insisted as you bit into a cookie.

“You bake?” You asked. Every new thing you learned about Joe and his hobbies should be chipping away at his bad boy image. Instead, they just enhanced everything he already was. It was unfair.

“When mom lets me near the kitchen. She says I’m too messy.” He admitted with a laugh. Joe flexed his fingers nervously, releasing and gripping your hip several times before he realized what he was doing and forced himself to relax. His hand had slid down over the course of the movie and you couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset by that. You leaned into him, laying your head on his shoulder.

Bits and pieces of other conversation floated through the air, mostly distorted by the symphony of radio chatter. It was almost comforting until you heard the name: _Laura._ You grimaced and looked up at Joe. You really didn’t want to ruin the moment by having the conversation, but this was technically later.

“There you go again, Kitten.” Joe said tenderly. “How can I help?”

You sighed. Later had become now.

“Umm. I should have told you this before, but I honestly forgot.” You said, your voice small, “I ran into Laura yesterday while I was at the drugstore with Sarah and Lucy.” You felt the change in him immediately. His back stiffened and his grip on your hip went protectively tight. His face became a stoic mask as he threw his guard up.

“What did she do?” He asked, his voice firm but not demanding.

You took a deep breath and recounted what happened.

“—and I may have implied that we were going up to The Ridge after this.” You finished. The stiffness had slipped from Joe’s spine and he laughed now, the sound rich and soothing.

“You told her we were what? Oh, Kitten, that is _delicious_. How can someone so sweet be so brutal?” He asked, tracing your ear affectionately. You blushed, keeping your eyes trained on the screen.

“I didn’t know! I never knew _why_ the two of you broke up, only that it happened. My ex is a sore spot for me, too, so I didn’t want to pry.” You admitted. He chewed his bottom lip like he was curious, but didn’t want to ask.

“She’ll look for my car there, you know.” Joe said, “She’ll want to prove that you’re lying.” You winced. You hadn’t considered that she might care _that much_.

“You really think so?”

“I know so.” Joe shook his head like he was trying to get rid of a bad thought.

“Well, it was a sweet victory while I had it.” You said with a shrug. “I’m sure she’ll have fun spreading _that_ by Monday.” Joe studied you thoughtfully for a moment.

“There doesn’t have to be a lie to prove. I mean, we don’t have to _do_ anything, but that doesn’t mean we can’t go park up there for a while. I—I wouldn’t expect anything. We can just listen to music and talk. Not that I wouldn’t want to do anything!” He stumbled over his words as he backpedaled, realizing the implications of his words. “What I’m saying is that I’d be alright driving up there and doing or not doing whatever we want.” He was cute when he was flustered.

“You’d do that for me?”

“Oh, this is entirely selfish, Kitten. Getting back at my cheating ex and spending quality time with a total doll? You’d be doing me a favor.” You started to protest but a chill swept through you, damn your lack of sleeves, and you shivered. Joe jumped into action, swinging his jacket off of himself and wrapping it around you. It was still warm with his body heat and smelled of cinnamon aftershave, leather, and something earthy. It took all your self-control not to inhale deeply and take in his scent. You grabbed the mugs and pulled a thermos out of the picnic basket.

“I didn’t know you drank coffee.” You said, confused. Joe grinned as he filled the mugs, the smell of warm hot chocolate hitting your nose.

“Me neither.” He said with a wink. You laughed and accepted the mug, taking a sip. It was a thick, rich drinking chocolate with the tiniest hint of something spicy. You hummed with pleasure as you drank it, Joe smiling fondly at you.

“You know what this looks like?” You teased, “Bringing food and going up to The Ridge instead of the diner. Having what looks like coffee just before the end of the evening…” You pitched your voice lower so that you took on what you hoped was a husky tone. By the way Joe swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he watched your lips, you thought it might have worked.

“Doll, you are an absolute menace.” He said finally. You just smiled at him.

As Lee Cobb, playing Friendly, swore his revenge on screen, you helped Joe pack up the remains of the picnic. You slipped your arms through the sleeves of his jacket so that you could maneuver more easily as you helped him clean. You didn’t realize that he was staring until you were moving the packed basket down onto the seat.

“What is it?” You asked, worried that you had chocolate or cucumber on your face. He was grinning in that strange, goofy sort of way that he did sometimes.

“You look good, all jacketed up.” He said. You could have sworn that you knew how to breathe, but your lungs just refused to cooperate.

“ _Jacketed?”_ You asked, unsure if you heard him correctly. It was Joe’s turn to blush.

“You—I mean—You look good in my jacket. Not that you wouldn’t look good, y’know, _Jacketed_ , but that’s… That’s for later—I mean if you would even want that.” He tripped over his own words again, desperately trying to rephrase in a way that neither assumed too much nor shut down any possibilities. He took a deep breath and regained his cool. “What I’m saying is that this is a good look on you. You should keep that jacket. I have a spare.”

“Joe, I can’t. This is—”

“—something I would like for you to have. It doesn’t have to mean anything just yet, Kitten.”

You bit your lip. You didn’t tell him that you _wanted_ it to mean something because it was too early for that. But he had said just yet, and that meant that he just might feel the same way you did. Instead of arguing, you wrapped it tightly around yourself and stopped resisting the urge to inhale his scent.

“Fine.” You agreed, “If it’ll make you happy.”

Joe helped you climb back into the front seat with a firm hand on your arm and one on your waist. He finished packing away the blanket and climbed out of the car to pull up the ragtop as you waited. As he walked around back to the driver’s side, you marveled at how the places he had touched you still seemed to spark with electricity.

“To the Ridge then?” Joe asked and you smiled at him nervously.

“To the Ridge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so no kiss this chapter. To make up for that, I'm uploading the next chapter tonight as well!


	8. Something's Gotta Give

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe and the Reader head up to the Ridge to make good on her lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that there's a spotify playlist for this! It's made up of the chapter names and songs that I mention in the fic, and it'll keep growing as the story does!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6uNN2Xsrop9YeR1AAeSmuQ

The Ridge was a rarely travelled stretch of road up one of the mountains just outside of town that served primarily as a make-out spot. It had once been called Cornflower Overlook, and still had several signs saying as much that were all but ignored.  On some weekends, it also was the site of illegal races, which meant that cops patrolled off and on, making it even more exciting. There were plenty of places along the road that you could pull off just out of sight for a private moment.

When you were dating Justin, he had been obsessed with finally getting to the point in your relationship that he could take you up to the Ridge. Any time the two of you went on a date, he would ask if you were ready yet. When you never were, he tried to force it.

You _shoved_ the thoughts away. This was nothing like that. In fact, you wouldn’t even be _going_ to the Ridge tonight if you hadn’t lied about it to Joe’s ex-girlfriend. This was your idea. Still, you couldn’t help but get a small rush of adrenaline as Joe turned up the road that made up the Ridge. You were driving up to a dubiously legal make out spot with _Joe Jonas_ and your curfew had been pushed back as far as possible.

Joe pulled into a spot high on the mountain with a beautiful view of the valley below and the stars above, first cutting the headlights and then cutting the engine entirely. He reached across you, gently pressing you back into your seat so that he could grab a small battery powered radio from the glove compartment. He sat back up and flicked it on.

_“-why I dream about you// If I could only put my arms about you // Life would be so fair// We two could hug and kiss // and never tire, I’m on fire—”_

Through the slight crackle of the radio, the sounds of The Four Knights filled the car. You could feel the blush bloom across your face and chest immediately. Of course a song like _this_ would be playing. Joe adjusted the volume until you could just barely make up the words and then he relaxed into his seat.

“So,” Joe said, looking around, “This is the Ridge. I’ve used this spot to hide when cops busted up the races.” You looked at him. You could barely see him in the dark, his silhouette just visible in the moon and starlight. Still you know what he looked like. He would be watching at you through dark lashes with a pensive look on his face. With how well he treated you and how soft he looked with his hair down, you had almost managed to forget that Joe Jonas would always be Trouble. For some reason, the word had a certain amount of fondness attached to it now.

“You race a lot?” You asked, reaching out to run your fingers over the dashboard of his car. The material was cool against your burning touch, no doubt a byproduct of your excitement.

“Not as much recently. I’ve had other things to keep me busy.” He reached out and you let him take your hands, smiling when he slid his fingers into yours.

“Could—” Joe started a sentence and immediately silenced himself when you turned to look at him again.

“What is it?”

“No, nothing. It’s—I was just going to ask if you’d rather sit in the back seat where there’s more room, but I realized that it would sound like—” He cut off his stuttering to sing along with the radio, “If I could only put my arms around you // Life would be so fair.”

You giggled, only the slightest bit annoyed at how perfect his timing was.

“If you’re alright with that, of course. It was nice just being close to you during the movie, and if we’re going to be up here for a while…” He trailed off, sounding vulnerable in a way that made your heart ache. You could deny him nothing. You wanted to deny him nothing.

“I’d like that, Joe.”

Maneuvering into the back seat was more complicated now that the top was up, but the two of you managed it without breaking anything or humiliating yourselves. Joe turned the radio up more so that the sound would reach the back seat, letting the music ease the nervous tension.

He leaned into the corner between the seat and the window and held his arm out for you. When you went to him, he shifted so that you were laying partially on his chest. You curled your legs on the seat, letting your heels drop into the floor of the car. For a moment, you savored the closeness.

You weren’t sure what prompted it, but you found yourself telling Joe about Justin. You wanted to get it all out of your system, to free yourself from the memory of him.

“Last time I came up here,” You said before amending it to, “The _only_ time I’ve been up here, actually, my ex and I were supposed to be on a date to the drive-in. He drove past it and I had no idea what was going on until he drove up here instead. Told me I could get out or put out.” You could still hear his words, even now, even with time and distance from them. You had thought that he was joking, at least at first.

Joe tensed behind you, his grip tightening protectively as if he could retroactively prevent the hurt from happening. He rested his face against the top of your head, waiting patiently for you to finish.

“I walked home. He followed, of course, but he just kept saying the same thing. _Get out or put out_ , even though I’d already gotten out. I tried to run a few times but his car was obviously faster. Took a few hours to get home. Ripped stockings, broken heel, puffy face—I thought my dad was going to kill me or him. He just gave me this long hug and didn’t ask any questions until I explained it all the next day.” You exhaled, feeling the weight lifting off your shoulders. “He actually dumped me at school the next day.”

Finally, Joe broke his silence.

“ _He_ dumped _you?_ ” He hissed. You nodded, hoping that Joe could parse the gesture while your head was on his chest.

“Before classes started. Said he couldn’t be with someone frigid like that.” That part still hurt, too. Joe wrapped both of his arms around you and pulled you as tightly to himself as he could manage without hurting you.

“Not wanting to hook up before you’re ready is _not_ frigid.” He said somewhat defensively, “Especially in a car in the woods. Thank you for sharing that with me.”

Both of your breakups had centered around the Ridge, and now here the two of you were, sitting together in the back of the car on the very road that had caused you so much trouble. With Joe, it was different. The memories of the bad things that had happened as well as the feelings that came with them just slipped away.

“Fair’s fair. My friends spilled the beans about your ex before you could. _Oh_ my friends!”

“Something happen? We need to get out of here?” You asked, pulling back to look at you. You shook your head, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“No, it’s just… My best friend Lucy got a date to the Hop and she really needs a dress, but none of us know how to drive yet and her dad is busy and the department stores are too far to walk, and—”

“You asking me for a ride, Kitten?” Joe cut your anxious rambling off with a smooth question and a squeeze of his hand on your arm.

“Yes?” You managed.

“I will drive you anywhere you want to go, with whoever you wanna go with, whenever you want.” He said, reaching out to cup your face. You leaned into his hand, closing your eyes as he traced circles on your cheek with his thumb. For a few moments you just gave yourself to that touch, letting your stress and anxiety face with each rotation of his thumb.

“Would you be willing to take Lucy, Sarah, and I to town around lunchtime tomorrow? I’ll buy your lunch.” You finally managed to form a coherent request. Joe’s thumb moved from tracing circles on your cheek to tracing the curve of your lips, ever so slightly parting them with the pressure. You heart leapt into your chest.

“How about I drive and you let me buy you lunch instead?” He countered, his voice low. Did he not realize what he was doing to you? With the way that you were twisted on his lap, could he not see? You caught yourself leaning ever so slightly up towards him, eyes heavily lidded, lips parted. Was the moonlight enough to see you by? Could he tell just how badly you wanted to kiss him? Did he want to kiss you too?

You wet your lips, your tongue brushing over the pad of his thumb when he did not move it.

“Deal.” You managed to breathe out. You would have agreed to almost anything in that moment.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” He whispered, his voice closer than before. So he _could_ see you. He withdrew his thumb from your lip and you ached at the loss of it. He gently lifted you off his chest, turning you fully so that you were facing him.

This close, you could see him in the moonlight. His pupils were blown wide with want for you, his bottom lip swollen where he had been chewing it. His breath was hot against his skin as he leaned in, his eyes searching for something in your face.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked. “You can say no, I’ll understand.” His voice was breathless, needy. You were sure that he would understand but the way that he asked the question made you wonder if he could _survive_.

“Yes.” You responded, “ _Please._ ”

It was all he needed. He guided you forward, one hand cupping your face, the other flat against the base of your spine. You could feel the air heat between the two of you as his breath fanned across your lips. He was close, _close, closer,_ leaning in slowly in case you changed your mind.

His lips brushed against yours with the slightest teasing pressure and you felt electricity crackle under your skin. Your breath caught in your throat and you reached for him, his stubble scraping the palm of your hand as you tried to draw him back in.

You started to say his name and he kissed you properly. You hadn’t been kissed in _months_ and you had never been kissed like this. You had no idea how much you were missing out on until Joe pressed his lips firmly against yours.

His kiss was searing, pleading, demanding, desperate for something that he was unable to put into words. His lips were soft and smooth and perfect, and you had to slide your fingers into his soft curls to keep yourself from trying to pull him in further. His fingers pressed into your back, pulling you in instead and you went willingly.

Your world was nothing but the connection between you and Joe. His kiss, his touch, his presents set your skin ablaze. You couldn’t think—couldn’t see—couldn’t _breathe_ for the need of him. It was everything you had wanted and somehow more than that. He gave you so much of himself in one kiss that you had to pull away, gasping for air.

The two of you sat, staring at each other for a long moment as you tried to catch your breath. As the silence stretched on, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I have wanted that since the day you walked me home.” You admitted, leaning your head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if you belonged there.

“Only since then?” He teased. You ached for more, but you knew that it wasn’t the time for that. You wondered if Joe was having the same concerns. You didn’t ask him. That wasn’t what you came to the Ridge for. Not tonight, at least.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and the two of you sat there for another hour. If headlights slid past his car for just a moment longer than necessary, you were too wrapped up in each other to notice.

You yawned for a third time and Joe stretched his arms.

“Alright, Kitten, let’s get you home.” He said softly.

You mumbled something sleepily about not having a curfew and Joe laughed as he carefully slid you off of his lap. He shifted awkwardly so that he was hovering over the seat, gently helping you lie across the seat. He covered you with the picnic blanket and climbed back into the front seat.

You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep, but you were shaken away what felt like seconds later.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Joe murmured, “We’re here. You need help getting those shoes back on?”

You shook your head.

“Too loud. Wake everybody up.” You grumbled, never opening your eyes. Joe laughed.

“Where’s your key?”

“Bag.” Joe disappeared and fished around the front seat for the clutch that Sylvie had given you. Distantly, you wondered how upset she would be if she knew that you hadn’t refreshed your lipstick even once. When he found the clutch, he got your key and tucked the bag under his arm. He gathered you and your shoes, lifting you carefully out of the back seat, and carried you to the front door.

“Do you want me to put you down in the entrance or take you up to your room?” He asked as he unlocked your front door. Though still sleepy, being picked up had jostled you enough that you were now coherent enough to be embarrassed that he had to carry you.

“Inside’s fine.”

He swung open the door and set you down inside, holding onto you for a few seconds to make sure that you were steady on your feet. He returned your key to the clutch and set that down on top of your shoes. When he stood up again, you reached for him with both arms and he went to you immediately, wrapping his arms around you. You pulled him down for a quick kiss and then kissed his cheek.

“Thank you. Good night.” You mumbled.

“Good night, kitten. I’ll see you lunchtime tomorrow.”

After he walked away, you locked the door and stood watching until his car was gone. Exhausted, you left your shoes and your clutch where they were in favor of collapsing into your bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to reader ALMOST ruining the mood. (Ex boyfriend talk AND friend talk? I wonder what poor Joe was thinking.)


	9. Interstitial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe drives the reader and her friends to town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is purely a set-up chapter. I wanted to show a bit of Joe's home life and then move everyone into place. Next chapter we'll touch on the actual plot of this story.

Saturday morning in the Jonas household meant a full, hot breakfast with the whole family. It also meant that any news in the family got spread around before the eggs were done cooking. Today, that news revolved around Joe’s date. Nick had been hounding him for details since Joe had come downstairs. All he had managed to get out of Joe before Denise called them all to breakfast was “It went well.”

Joe paced the length of the kitchen, nursing a still-steaming mug of black coffee. Insecurity pressed heavy in his stomach and the hot breakfast on the table seemed entirely unappetizing.

“Joseph Adam Jonas, _sit down._ You’ll wear a rut in my floor.” His mother demanded, pointing authoritatively at his chair. He looked from his chair to her and any protest died on his tongue. He dropped into his seat between Kevin and Frankie with a deep sigh.

“I thought you said the date went well.” Nick asked through a mouthful of toast and scrambled eggs. Joe winced.

“Nick, swallow before you talk.” Denise chided him before turning her attention back to Joe, “ _Didn’t_ the date go well? You were out awful late.”

Joe took a sip of his coffee to buy himself a few seconds. He didn’t want to have this conversation with his mother, especially not while he was this anxious about seeing you again.

“It was a nice date. I’m not worried about that, I’m worried about… _me._ ” He tried to explain. He accepted the plate of food his mother pushed at him. “I’m giving her and her friends a ride to town so they can find dresses for the Hop and—“

“Are you going to ask her to the Hop?” Nick interrupted, grinning fiendishly.

“ _No!_ I mean yes! I mean—“ Joe groaned in annoyance, “Maybe. I’m thinking about it, but that’s not what I’m worried about. They’re her best friends, what if they don’t like me?”

“The great Joseph Adam Jonas, worried about the approval of some puffs.” Nick teased, “Oh how the mighty have fallen.”

“ _Nick!”_ Denise chided, levelling the boy with a glare. He only shrugged.

“They’re not just _some puffs_ , they’re her best friends.”

“So?” Kevin chimed in, “Your delinquent friends won’t be there, so you’ll be on your best behavior.”

Joe groaned again and took a big swig of his coffee. It burnt the roof of his mouth, but it was better than trying to defend himself against his brothers.

“Joey, what’s a puff?” Frankie whispered and Joe shook his head.

“You’ll be fine, darling. I’m sure her friends already know all about you. Now _eat_ , you’ll tear your stomach up with all that coffee.” Denise commanded. Joe relented, taking the food that his mother kept trying to force on him despite the fact that he still didn’t feel hungry.

“We _will_ have to have a talk about those friends of yours, though.”

Joe glared at Kevin, spearing his eggs with a bit more force than strictly necessary.

Kevin, at least, got the message and turned the conversation to his new apprenticeship at his college. Joe chimed in minimally, his mind still fixated on what your friends would think of him. He had a reputation, and you were their _best friend_. He had seen them around. They were, well, puffs. Very tuned into the rumor mill and very much social ladder climbers. That was all he knew, though, and it wasn’t enough to soothe or to confirm his fears.

After breakfast, he took on dish duty. If he sat in the living room while his father listened to golf, he knew that the questions would come and he didn’t want to talk to his family about you, your friends, your date, or his delinquent friends.

Besides, he had to level himself out so he could play it cool when he got to your place.

## -

Despite your late night, you woke up early the next morning feeling energized and excited. You hurried to the bathroom to shower and wash last night’s makeup off your face, regretting your decision to just drop into your bed as soon as Joe was gone.

 _Joe._ You couldn’t help but to feel giddy when you thought about him. You had finally kissed Joe. Multiple times. You could kiss Joe _again_ , if you wanted to. And if he wanted to, of course. You hoped he wanted to.

After your shower, you donned a soft robe and padded downstairs. Your mom was stretched out on the couch reading a book and your dad was giving her a foot massage.

“We didn’t hear you come in last night.” Your mom said, turning a page, “I’m not sure how with how loud that car of his is. I put your shoes and bag in your room, though.” You hummed as you realized that the sound of Joe’s car normally would have woken you up the second, he revved his engines. Interesting.

“Thanks, mom. It was pretty late, but now that I think about it, I didn’t hear it when he drove away.”

“He took the muffler off his car for you. He’s in deep.” Your dad said with a laugh. You smiled, but internally you were screaming. Had he? No, you had just been too sleepy to notice or care about the sound, surely.

“By the way, he’s agreed to take Lucy, Sarah, and I to town, if that’s alright with the two of you. That hop is in two weeks.” You said hopefully. Your parents looked at each other, sharing a soft smile like they were remembering something.

“I suppose.” Your mother said with a sigh. You grinned and thanked them, hurrying over the phone to call Lucy.

“Hello, Operator? Could I get Terrance Bennet’s Household, please?”

“Certainly.”

After several rings, Lucy’s mother answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Mrs. Bennet. Can Lucy come to the phone?”

“Oh! Good morning, this must be about whatever has Sarah over so early in the morning. One moment.” You heard her cover the phone and then, distantly, “Lucille, it’s for you!” She uncovered the mouthpiece, “Here she is, dear, tell your mother hello and that I’ll bring devilled eggs for the potluck after service tomorrow.”

There was a momentary shifting and finally, Lucy was on the phone.

“How was the date? Did he kiss you? Did you ask him about going to town?” She bombarded you with several questions all at once, leaving you reeling.

“He said he’ll take us to town after lunch. If you meet me here to get ready, I’ll tell you two everything.” You said. There was a brief back and forth as Lucy tried to get details out of you _now_ , but you eventually won out.

With that settled, you popped a slice of toast into the toaster and poured yourself a glass of orange juice.

“Where’s Sylvie?” You called, popping your head into the living room. Your mom looked up from her book.

“She disappeared in a crowd of gigglers about an hour before you woke up. I heard something about a new foreigner?” You shook your head.

“She told me there was a new boy from abroad and borrowed my white skirt. That’s all I know. Lucy and Sarah are the ones keeping up with the gossip. They’ll be here soon.” You turned to go back into the kitchen and then popped your head out again “Oh, and Mrs. Bennet is making devilled eggs for tomorrow.”

Your toast popped and you hurried to put it on a plate. You spread cream cheese on it and carried your food into the living room to eat with your parents. Your mom had put her book down and was discussing whether they should give the old curtains away when they switched them out or save them for the next season.

“Wilhelmina down at the laundromat said she loved these, but I don’t want her to think it’s charity.” She said with a sigh. “It’s a shame they don’t pay her enough to get some herself. She has the nicest house that side of town. Nicer than some of the ones this side, too.” You winced at _that side of town_ but said nothing about it, eating your toast.

“Maybe I’ll just offer next time I go down. If she doesn’t take them, we can put them away.” She decided aloud. Your father hadn’t said a word.

“There’s coffee in the percolator, if you need it.” He offered and you wrinkled your nose.

“Did you make it, or did mom?” Your father drank his coffee like a cowboy, sometimes leaving the grounds in. Before he could answer, the doorbell rang and you rushed to get it, still dressed in your robes. Sarah and Lucy rushed in, greeting your parents excitedly.

You finished your food as your friends filled your mom in on everything they knew about Sylvie’s foreigner.

“—And he brought his _car!”_ Lucy said excitedly.

Your father, who had been pretending not to listen, glanced up over his paper as if just tuning in.

“His car?” He asked. You smirked at him, knowing that he was hooked by their gossip now.

“Oh yeah,” Lucy said, “Something Italian. An Alfa—“

“Alfa Romeo?” Your father asked.

“Yeah, that’s it! Cherry red, white leather interiors.”

Your father whistled and looked back down at his paper. If he had been concerned about Sylvie’s interest in this foreigner before, it was gone now. You shook your head. He was so easily swayed.

You put your dishes in the sink and poured yourself a cup of coffee, grimacing when it came out slightly sludgy. Your father must have made it. You added a generous amount of cream and sugar and headed up the stairs. Lucy and Sarah had been filling your mother in on some other gossip, but they bolted to their feet when they saw you heading towards your room.

“We have to dress her.” Sarah said by way of explanation.

They hurried up behind you, ushering you up the stairs to your room. You sat on your bed and sipped your coffee, not even bothering to stop the two of them from turning your room into a whirlwind of clothes.

Instead of doing that, however, they both froze at the threshold of your room.

“Oh my god.” Sarah said.

“Is that—?” Lucy trailed off.

You followed their shared gaze to the leather jacket hanging casually off the back of your chair. Oh. That.

“It’s not like _that._ I was cold and he let me wear it. He said I looked good in it and he wanted me to have it, but we’re not… _jacketed._ ”

Lucy gave you a skeptical look and crossed her arms over your chest. You sighed and recapped the date for them as well as you could remember it. They hung onto your every word, squealing so loudly when you got to the first kiss that you thought you might go deaf.

“Well you _have_ to wear his jacket.” Sarah insisted, walking over to dig through your closet.

“Isn’t that aggressive?” You asked, biting your bottom lip.

Sarah pulled a pair of grey cigarette pants and a pair of black cigarette pants out of your closet and held them both up to the jacket. She settled on the grey pair and pulled a scoop neck long sleeved black shirt out of your closet.

“Yes.” She said simply, placing the outfit on your bed.

“You _want_ to be aggressive.” Lucy added, “You’re past the third date so now you have to really hook him in.”

Sarah nodded sagely as she grabbed your boots from the closet.

“We want you jacketed—really jacketed—by the Hop.”

You groaned, flopping back onto your bed.

“Guys, I don’t even know if Joe wants to go to the Hop. Laura will be there and Justin will be there and—“

“We will be there. I’ll be your date if he won’t.” Sarah cut you off, her shadow falling across you as she leaned over you. You opened your eyes and saw her smirking at you. “But he will. Now get dressed.”

You groaned again but did as you were told. They helped you with a bit of a cat-eye and you gasped as you checked yourself out in the mirror. You looked… daring.

“This is-“

“Smokin’.” Sarah interrupted you, punctuated by a whistle from Lucy. You bit your lip and did a quick turn in front of the mirror. You weren’t usually one for pants in public, but if you looked like this in them? You could make an exception.

It wasn’t long before the sound of Joe’s car sounded down the street and you swung his jacket over your shoulders. You said quick goodbyes to your parents before scampering outside with your friends.

Joe pulled up like he always did— loudly— and hopped out of the car, walking around it to greet you. He looked good, as he always did, in a leather jacket that matched the one you had on and a plain white t-shirt.

He greeted your friends and then turned his gaze to you, his eyes widening momentarily as he took you in.

“Jesus, Kitten, you could kill a man like that.” He said with a grin. He held his arms open for you and you went to him, throwing your arms around his shoulders as he wrapped his around your waist. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, just barely brushing the corner of your mouth and you flushed as he pulled away.

You could practically hear your friends short-circuiting behind you, but they remained mercifully quiet as Joe opened the passenger door and pulled your seat up so that they could get in the back.

“You ladies are looking lovely as well, of course. Forgive a man his biases.” He said, glancing back at you with a wink as he pushed your seat back into place. You rolled your eyes at him as he helped you into the car and closed the door behind him. Ever the charmer, that Joe Jonas.

Heading into town meant going on the highway, and going on the highway meant that Joe got to show off what his car could do. He had promised your father that he wouldn’t go highway speeds in the neighborhoods, but he had made no such promises about speeding on the highways.

It was exhilarating. With one arm thrown across your shoulder, the other hand gripping the steering wheel, Joe was fully in his comfort zone.

Your heart pounded hard against his chest as he went faster and faster on the highway. What if you got pulled over? What if you got into an accident? A nervous laugh bubbled up in your throat and Joe squeezed your shoulder. It was a small touch, but it was enough to help you relax. You took a deep breath and relaxed your shoulders, letting yourself enjoy the ride. In the back seat, Lucy and Sarah were whooping and hollering, fully enjoying themselves.

-

Dress shopping with Lucy and Sarah ended up being relatively painless. Lucy’s mother subscribed to most of the catalogues, and they had spent the morning poring over them to decide what they might want to wear.

The problem came when they turned on you.

“You can’t know what we’re getting you.” Sarah insisted, ushering you and Joe out of the department store.

“I won’t be able to try it on if I’m not here.” You countered, not trusting whatever it was that your friends were up to.

“We know your size. Joe, take her somewhere for an hour or so. We’ll meet you at that burger place.” Lucy fired back. Joe looked over at you and grinned.

“Yes ma’am.” He answered, draping an arm over your shoulder. You sighed. If _Joe_ was even siding with them, there really wasn’t anything you can do. “Come on, Kitten, is alone time really so bad?”

 _Oh._ When he said it like _that…_ You pointedly did not look back at Lucy and Sarah, knowing that they would be making some kind of face at you.

He led you out of the department store and back out onto the main boulevard. You thought that he might move his arm, but instead he just pulled you closer to him. You followed his lead, not knowing or caring where he was headed for the hour the two of you had to yourselves.

“I’m sorry about the two of them.” You said, shaking you’re head, “They’re… excited.”

“I like them. It’s clear they care a lot about you.” He said, leaning to press a kiss against your forehead. His approval made your chest feel warm. It was nice, not having to worry about what they thought of each other.

A rumble sounded around the corner and Joe stopped, turning his head to face the street.

“It looks like you might see a few of _my_ friends.” He didn’t sound pleased about the idea.


End file.
